


With Every Broken Bone

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Let The Spectrum In [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Beyond canon-typical violence, Do the kids still call it that?, Gen, Hunk Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Mild ship teasing, Mind Control, Mind Control!Shiro, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Violence, Whump, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-07-25 11:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7530757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Shiro lied to the team, and one time he told the truth.</p><p> </p><p>Standalone story: You do NOT need to read the previous in the series to understand this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "I don't feel weird"

**Author's Note:**

> With a summary about lying, things can't possibly go wrong!

“I don’t feel weird,” Shiro insisted, as confidently as he could manage.

It was undermined by the way he was sprawled out in the chair, head tilted over the back and legs stretched out as far as they could go. Aware he wasn’t backing up his words well, Shiro tried to straighten up, then found out it was a lot of effort, so he gave up with a chuckle.

No one looked very convinced by his act, which was a problem. They were worried, and Shiro didn’t want them worried. He was acting different, sure, but it wasn’t for bad reasons. Honest.

“This is so weird,” Hunk muttered, sounding like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or frightened.

When the paladins had landed on this planet, the inhabitants had gone absolutely nuts. The concept of Voltron seemed to have mixed reactions around the universe. Some still knew old, vague stories, some thought it was a myth, and some hadn’t heard of it at all.

But this planet didn’t just know about Voltron. They knew about the lions. And they _loved_ them.

From what Shiro could tell, beasts like the lions had always been part of their cultural folklore, including legends of those who could ride them. Their creatures, called Kyvaria, had once been very real, as evidenced by the terrifyingly gigantic skeletons that they’d excavated and decorated important buildings with, and had clearly played a big role in the early days of the civilization. Now, they were long since gone, but no less idolized.

Shiro had to admit, if aliens had landed on Earth riding flying robot dinosaurs or wooly mammoths, his reaction might have been pretty similar.

But unlike Earth’s dinosaurs, the people of Braous knew an incredible amount about the Kyvaria. Once upon a time, that knowledge had been put to use taming and bonding with their creatures. And they were very, very excited to have the paladins there to try it now.

The whole thing had seemed harmless. Fun, if only for how _gleeful_ their leader, Shahray, had been. Going through the motions had become a deep and integral part of their culture, and now they not only had a real subject to use it on, but on someone who was fighting off the oppressors of the universe.

And so Shahray had asked if they wouldn’t mind going through with it, at least once. “It is a bonding activity,” she had told him, her enthusiasm pulling years off her aged faced. “The paladins were supposed to be bonded to their Kyvaria, yes? So it will work for you.”

The procedure wasn’t even that long or complicated. Just letting them light some incense (which had been checked - nothing but scented bark, no chance for harm) and perform a simple prayer as the rider touched the Kyvaria’s muzzle. The work of about 10 minutes total, and then they could be on their way.

What Shiro hadn’t accounted for, in hindsight, was that it would be more than a show.

“Seriously, m’fine,” Shiro tried. “Okay, maybe a little weird. Not bad weird. Head weird. But not worry weird.” Them freaking out over his odd actions would be a problem, but clearly bullshitting his way through it was out. He was only half here, mentally.

He picked his head up enough to see Pidge’s bland look. “Head weird is not very comforting, Shiro.”

Shiro just shrugged, because he didn’t know how to explain it, and it was hard to... words. The bonding ritual had connected him to Black in the same way he’d only managed a couple of times during battle. It wasn’t the quick ideas and conversations that characterized learning something new. This was a constant, shared thought-space.

With a metal lion.

Space was weird.

“Well,” Lance drawled, and Shiro looked at him and narrowed his eyes. That tone meant bad things. “If it’s not bad, I guess I should go do it too, hm?”

Ah, hell. 

Reaching out, Shiro snagged the back of Lance’s hoodie and pulled him back until he stumbled, then fell into Shiro’s lap. Then he wrapped his metal arm around Lance’s waist. “No. Wait it out. Might be bad later. Then we’ll talk. Okay, Blue?” Shiro butted his forehead against the back of Lance’s neck, because that made sense to do in the moment. Lance squirmed, and Shiro made an unhappy rumbling noise until he stopped. No running off and getting into trouble. So there.

A hand pressed between Shiro’s head and Lance’s back, gently pushing him until his face could be seen. Keith frowned at him, then flipped his hand around, touching gently with the back of his hand. There was a moment of silence, as Shiro stared up at him and Keith stared back down. Then he pulled his hand back and looked at the others. “I don’t actually know what normal feels like.”

“You don’t- here.” Pidge stepped forward and scanned Shiro with her pad. “His temperature is within normal ranges. Maybe a little warm, but not enough to say there’s something wrong.” 

Hunk snorted. “Well there’s clearly something wrong. He can barely talk.”

“I _can_ talk,” Shiro replied, finally letting go of Lance. He shot up in a moment and whirled around, like he was afraid Shiro would cage him again. “It’s just hard. Thinking in... colors. Lions. It’s bonding.”

He’d been trying to get across that he was thinking half through Black since they started it, but he got the feeling it wasn’t quite connecting. They understand that it involved the lions and the rituals, but to them it was another case of being accidentally drunk or otherwise altered. And with Coran and Allura still in talks about trade and supplies with Shayray (important talks too, since they’d rarely found a society so willing to freely give them whatever they needed), he didn’t have anyone who might understand or have experience with the situation there to help him explain.

Oh. But he could show them!

“Yel- Hunk, come here.” Shiro reached for Hunk until he took a couple of unsure steps forward. Taking hold of a sleeve, Shiro was able to pull himself upright, even if he was half hanging-off him. “Good size. Thank you.”

Hunk snorted. “No problem. Glad to help. What’s up?” He paused, then colored. “You don’t need to, uh, use the restroom or anything, ‘cause I, uh, I mean-”

Patting his shoulder, Shiro shook his head. “No. M’helping. C’mon. Walking.” He pushed forward on shaky legs that didn’t feel _real_ as the four on Black.

After a few seconds of prodding, Hunk shrugged and started to walk, though he staggered a bit under Shiro’s weight. Then Keith slid in on Shiro’s other side and supported him there, and the whole process got much easier. It turned out, the best way to do this was for Shiro to just keep his feet moving and under him, then let the others know where they wanted to go. 

“Why do you want to see the lions?” Pidge asked, still frowning. No doubt all of them were able to tell that they were zeroing in on the machines. She had her pad out in front of her, still scanning away, like if she just kept trying she’d figure out what he was thinking.

Shiro grinned over his shoulder. “I’m showing you.”

That didn’t seem as comforting to them as it was to Shiro.

The group was allowed through without fuss, though the way they were half-dragging Shiro got a few odd stairs. Eventually, the made it to the large bay that they’d settled the lions in.

The rest were still where they’d been left, but Black was on her feet and facing them, mechanical tail lashing.

“See,” Shiro replied, tone a touch smug. “Bonding.” He waved one hand, and Black mirrored the action, down to the movement of the fingers (or toes, technically). It was a few steps above anything they could usually do outside of the cockpits. Sure, emotionally driven actions happened (jumping when startled, or the lions were known to turn their heads in the same direction their paladin might be looking), and they had all summoned their lion on some occasion or another. But with no contact, and so specific and... well, frivolous was new.

Lance glanced between the two, then beamed. “How are you doing that? Can you make the black lion dance?”

Shaking his head, Shiro shot him a bland look. “No. She doesn’t want to.” He switched hands, and so did she. “We’re talking. She says hi. Well, no, she doesn’t, but it’s polite so I say hi for her. She does like you all, though. Even if she thinks we’re too fragile.”

“She has a point,” Pidge muttered. “Is this from the ritual?”

Finally. “Yes! Good Green.” Shiro smiled at her, thankful someone had finally got it. “Worked. Let me test it, then we’ll talk to Allura and Coran. Might be good for practice. Probably wears off, though.” He pushed off Hunk’s shoulder and untangled himself from Keith, making his unsteady way toward Black. She moved with him, there to lean against when his balance started to give again. Having six legs in all different places didn’t make walking on two of them a simple task.

Hunk followed after him, probably to catch him in case Black didn’t get there in time. “You’ve never acted like that in training, though.”

“Never went this far. Kinda hard to tell apart. Probably bad in a fight.” Shiro nodded to himself, and Black tapped one foot in agreement. “Useful, though. I can feel the others. Oh, I mean, you all. Not the lions. Others to her.”

It seemed to take everyone a few minutes to piece through that. “Feel us how? Like how we feel the lions?”

Shiro nodded. “Similar. But less pressure. Not a tug. Like a light. Colors.” He paused, then glanced at them all. “Wanna test it?”

The answer, it turned out, was an enthusiastic yes.

That was how Allura and Coran found them, an hour or so later. Shiro stayed in place at ‘home base’, while the others would try and hide somewhere he wouldn’t be able to sense.

“Good show!” Coran congratulated him, giving Shiro a hearty clap on the shoulder, not seeming to notice his affected balance. He wobbled dangerously, already growing tired, but managed to catch himself on Black’s muzzle before he fell over completely. “That’s the proper way! Usually takes years, you know. I had no idea these people’s methods were so effective.”

Allura had that gleam in her eyes that meant she had a new and more terrifying idea for training soon. Shiro gave an internal shudder and inside his head, Black laughed at him. Rude cat. “I think we may need to speak with Shahray again about repeating the ritual.”

“Um,” managed Shiro, but Lance cheered from his spot hiding behind the blue lion’s leg, and then Pidge was curious too, and soon everyone was talking about it. The words were too hard and they were too excited, so Shiro didn’t voice his doubts. He blinked slowly, oddly sleepy, and while they rest fo the team was still discussing plans, he slumped over sideways, only saved from crashing onto the ground by Black.

When he woke up, Shiro remembered basically nothing after the ritual began. He had a vague recollection of speaking with Bla- the black lion, but nothing specific, and the description of his actions only made his stomach squirm with discomfort and embarrassment.

But getting to see everyone else sprawled out and silly? That was just satisfying.


	2. "I've Done This Before"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Space Merchants: For All Your Space Junk Needs

“I’ve done this before,” Shiro assured the paladins, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

It was a total, bald-faced lie.

The planet they’d found themselves on for a supply run was one of the few places in the galaxy not under Galra control. Probably, it was because it was, as Lance declared, ‘a wretched hive of scum and villany’. 

On a planet like this, it was never a good idea to advertise who they were. Not only did they all have pretty remarkable bounties on their head, but they’d all learned the hard way that the lions were excellent targets as well (thank you for that life lesson, Lance). So that meant the traders they were dealing with were treating them the same as everyone else, including some aggressive up-selling by local dealers.

While the devices that Pidge and Hunk worked on often worked with whatever tech they could find, the castle ran off some very specific equipment, already thousands of years old. So it was a pain to find someone actually selling whatever it is they needed but couldn’t machine on board. Thankfully those items were the exception rather than the rule, but these merchants knew that they had a seller’s market.

It had already been a long day of negotiating, but now the merchant, Krukan, was trying to sell them on more. Namely, a bike made specifically for flying around on any terrain, similar to the kind Keith used to get to Shiro back on earth (and then they’d all used to get back away).

And Shiro was _tempted_.

“That thing?” Hunk had questioned, nose crinkled in distaste. He looked over the dents in the side, where the metals were different colors from replacements, and then stared blandly at Krukan. It seemed Hunk didn’t have much respect for someone who couldn’t maintain the condition of their tech.

And, yes, Shiro agreed with that on principle. But he’d also spent his free time, back before Kerberous, fixing up would-be scrap machines like that and modifying them into something beyond what the original had been.

Shiro didn’t want to do that for this one. Really. Honestly. It had been years since he’d done anything like that, and they didn’t have the time. Plus, what was he going to do with it in space? Was he going to drag it along with them in his lion whenever they landed somewhere?

It was completely unnecessary and unneeded.

But surely one little ride wouldn’t hurt anyone?

So when Krukan had insisted that no, this was a beauty, they needed it, just turn it on and see for yourself, Shiro had spoken up. “Just a test.”

Hunk and Pidge had shared an odd look, then stared at Shiro. “Why? We don’t even know how to fly this thing.” Pidge pointed out. And it was true, that while the basic function and machinery of the bike looked like it was similar to what he’d flown back on Earth, the details were probably different.

But, hell, a bike was a bike. It couldn’t be that different.

So that was when Shiro had lied. “I’ve done this before.” And at that, both the other paladins just looked sad, and it occurred to Shiro that they thought he’d flown them in captivity, for some reason, not that he was talking about something from home.

Well, Shiro would correct them back on the castle. No need to bring that up now, when a fugitive of Galra captivity would be too interesting to anyone listening. “Besides,” he added, voice lower, like he didn’t want Krukan to hear. “If we just go along with it, he’ll be satisfied and we can pay and go.” 

Neither Hunk nor Pidge looked convinced by the argument, but before they could speak, someone came up behind them. Lance and Keith were returning, carrying a bag each. Shiro couldn’t see what was inside, so he hoped they’d mostly limited themselves to the shopping list they’d been given, but considering Lance was also wearing something that looked like a pair of metal sunglasses with fabric weaved into it, they’d deviated at least a little.

“If Shiro says he can fly it, he can,” Keith offered stubbornly. Clearly he’d overheard the discussion. “I’ve never seen anything he can’t fly.”

Shiro smiled back, warmed by the confidence, even as a tiny bit of guilt wormed into him. Keith didn’t even know what he was backing up - he just did it, because it was Shiro. It was years old habit by now.

“Alright,” Hunk said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He still looked unimpressed. “Go ahead, give it a whirl. We still don’t need it.”

And this had officially all gotten out of hand, but, well, it was just a test. “Just around the courtyard?” Shiro asked Krukan, who nodded eagerly. He could no doubt smell an eager customer.

Without his helmet from Voltron, there wasn’t really anything else. And Shiro would object to anyone else doing this, but it was just going to be a slow loop around them. Nothing that needed it.

“Starter slot is here,” Krukan explained, with all the slimy, gentle assurance of used transport salesbeings the universe over. Then he handed Shiro a metal card that he realized was essentially the ignition key.

Shiro slid it in, and then after a couple of tries, managed to figure out the way to turn the handle so the control panel lit up. Even in places the Galra didn’t control, their language was still the widest spoken, and so Shiro could read enough to get a sense of what the buttons were for.

Taking hold of the handles, Shiro shot the paladins an easy smile. Then he leaned forward, gentle as he could, so he’d barely move forward.

The bike shot forward so fast Shiro nearly fell back off it.

Either the controls were very different from what Shiro had assumed or this thing was just ridiculously fast. In a moment he was already nearly crashing into a nearby wall, and only yanking himself to the side saved him from that. Adrenaline kicked in Shiro he glanced down, mind working on the controls and their reactions, and making everything slow down enough for him to understand.

The controls finally clicked as he swerved again, this time to avoid hitting another stall. Shiro pushed himself up so he was standing more, then yanked back on the handles and apart. The bike slowed somewhat, speed still incredible, but more manageable now.

And now that his heart was pounding and the bike was responding well, Shiro was having fun. He grinned as he whipped back around the starting point, then did the loop again, this time curving the whole way so he was tilted at nearly 45 degrees.

Shiro had missed this. It reminded him of times where he’d either run out on his own or taken Keith, and he’d show him all the tricks he’d learned in his advanced classes. How to really _fly_.

But this was just a test run, and Shiro needed to get back to the others. So he slowed down again and went to finish the circuit. 

Then he realized he had _no idea_ how to break this thing.

Pulling the handles more didn’t seem to work. The panel had nothing on screen about breaks. There was no pedal underfoot.

Shit.

Well, Shiro had dealt without breaks before, but he got the feeling the others would like it about as much as his instructors had. He turned as hard as he could, until he was doing doughnuts so tight he was basically spinning in place. Dust and dirt kicked up under the fans, but the bike did slow and scrape itself into a stop.

Mind, one of the side fans falling off probably helped with that.

‘You break it, you buy it’ also turned out to universal.

They took the bike back to the pick-up point in relative silence. Or, the silence lasted for maybe ten minutes, before Lance spoke up. “So. Our star pupil, huh?”

Shiro sighed, because he deserved this.

“Top of all the classes, the metric by which we all measured ourselves,” Lance continued dramatically, clutching the bag to his chest. “Oh, how our idols have shattered.”

Okay, no. No one deserved this. “It looked like an old bike I fixed up years ago,” Shiro finally offered.

“You thought the beat-up piece of junk sold by the alien merchant a universe apart from Earth ran the exact same way? After all we’ve seen of the tech around here?” Pidge replied, bone dry. She shook her head. “For shame, leader. We expected better of you.”

Keith crossed his arms. “You made a liar out of me.”

That made Shiro wilt again. “I-”

Suddenly, Hunk laughed and patted him on the back. “I think the real surprise was seeing you screw something up.”

“I want to frame this memory,” Lance agreed cheerfully. “I want to put it on the wall in the training room.”

It was an odd feeling, to be relieved and annoyed at their teasing. Yes, it wasn’t a very _leaderly_ moment, but apparently none of them were actually upset at him for doing something so impulsive.

Pidge snorted. “I was wondering why you kept saying nonsense. ‘He’ll leave us alone if we give in’. In what universe?”

“I think this gets us all one free pass, since Shiro did it. Next time any of us does something stupid on a planet we get to use our get out of jail free card,” Lance declared.

Laughing, Shiro shook his head. “No way. Doesn’t work like that. Besides, you’ve used up your free card by now, I’m sure.”

That made Keith smirk, and Lance scowled at them both. “So has Keith! So has everyone!”

“Good, so no one gets a card.” Shiro set down the cart he’d been pulling and dug the signal out of his bag, so the castle would come get them. “Glad we worked that out.”

Now that they were settled, Keith started to mess with the (firmly turned off and still nicely broken) bike with obvious interest, and Lance and Hunk started to dig through the other purchases. And yes, there was more than they’d asked for. Significantly.

Siding over next to Shiro, Pidge eyed him. “You know, if you’d just said you wanted it, we wouldn’t have minded.”

That made Shiro pause, and he glanced back at Pidge. “You know, it didn’t really occur to me.” She rolled her eyes and he smiled and shrugged. “But, well, I have something for downtime, now, I guess. No sense buying it and not fixing it up.”

“Good,” Pidge replied, easily. There was a roar above them as the castle started to descend. “But you get to explain what happened to Allura.”

Well, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If official Dreamworks merchandise is going to call Shiro a teenager, I'm going to treat him like one. Give me Shiro feeling comfortable enough to be impulsive, dammit! He’s probably the one who taught Keith to do all the stupid shit he does, anyway. Shiro is a hotshot pilot picked right out of school for a ridiculous mission to Kerberos, and if he didn’t do crazy shit and got away with it just for being good and loved by the higher ups, I don’t know what’s going on.
> 
> "But BT, at San Diego Comic Con..."
> 
> A) This was written before that   
> B) Friends, two writers (technically one) saying this at a convention when literally no on else in production seems to know this does not canon make. I'll take the numbers they say in the show, and until they, I can pick and choose from contrary secondary canon sources all I damn well please. And if they continue to say Pidge is 14 I will continue to ignore it, because you cannot tell me Pidge can fly a giant space lion robot and not drive a car.  
> C) Even if it was Official Canon, this is fanfic and I do what I please.


	3. "It's just a little cold"

The first thing Shiro did in the morning was groan.

He’d gone to bed early the previous night. Hell, Shiro had encouraged everyone to do so, because today was important, but he’d had an ulterior motive. He’d felt the pressure in his head, the churn to his stomach, and he’d hoped a good night’s sleep would fend off the worst of it.

But it wasn’t like his sleep schedule was something Shiro could control, so he’d spent several hours tossing and turning, got in a couple of hours before the dreams woke him up, then tossed and turned some more until he finally drifted back off. All in all, he’d probably only gotten a few hours in total, which... well, it wasn’t bad, given his track record. But it hadn’t done him any favors today.

 

Groaning again, Shiro shoved himself off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. A quick shower didn’t clear his head, but it made him feel a little less stuffed up, at least, and he stared at himself in the mirror until he could make his expression look at least close to normal.

Pretending that he wasn’t sick wasn’t wise. Shiro knew that. Most of the time, he’d never endanger the team like that.

Today was different. Today, they were going to free a Galra mining planet. The kind that used prisoners as labor.

Pidge had been focused on nothing else since she’d found the coordinates a few days ago. She’d planned out every detail obsessively, and had only stopped when Shiro pointed out that sleeping was more important than anything else, because they needed to be alert and ready during the attack. He suspected Pidge hadn’t slept any better than he did last night, but it was better than nothing.

So, no, Shiro couldn’t delay today for being sick. He couldn’t put Pidge through that waiting game, and if Matt and Commander Holt were down there on that planet, and he’d let them sit for another day of being prisoners... well, it wasn’t something Shiro would do to them. Period.

And all that meant Shiro had to get himself together.

After a few moments of murmuring to his reflection, trying to get his voice to sound less like a croak, Shiro stepped out, got into his armor, and marched himself to the control room.

Unusually, he was one of the last ones to arrive. Pidge he had expected to already be up, and she was leaning against one of the walls, eyes hidden behind her bangs and arms crossed tightly. She still looked like a bundle of nerves, but hopefully not one that had been up all night. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Hunk hovering by her shoulder, but Keith. He didn’t seem to be saying or doing much, just staying by Pidge, close enough that they occasionally brushed.

Good. That was probably the best option. Shiro nodded to him, which Keith returned.

Hunk and Lance were huddled together, talking in low voices. They seemed to be discussing anything but the mission, quietly enough not to bother the other two. Neither of them dealt with tense silences well, and as long as it wasn’t causing any friction, Shiro was glad they weren’t making things harder on themselves.

Allura met his gaze and nodded to him, so Shiro walked over to speak with her. But his legs weren’t quite stable, and she seemed to notice the lack of balance. Immediately, her brow furrowed and she frowned at his face, gaze critical. “Are you alright?”

“It’s just a little cold,” Shiro murmured back, keeping his voice low. There was no way he wanted the others to hear this. “After the mission I’ll rest, but I’m fine for now.”

If he had flat denied it, Shiro was fairly certain Allura would have called him out in a second. Or even for any other mission, she probably wouldn’t have accepted that. But today, she did. “Alright. Coran was preparing the healing pods for use. I’m sure there will be someone who needs it, unfortunately, and I know I for one don’t trust whatever medical technology the Galra have available...”

The conversation on the post-mission logistics was actually soothing. It didn’t help with the sweat gathering under Shiro’s armor or the way his muscles ached without having even stepped into battle, but it was hopeful. They weren’t discussing if they’d win. They were discussing what happened when they did. Though, neither of them speculated on the possibility of finding the Holts. Any plans would adapt, and Shiro didn’t doubt Pidge had many thoughts on the subject anyway.

“Alright, team,” Coran called through the headset. “Everything’s all set up. I’ll head up to be with the princess. Good luck to you all.”

Allura nodded, switching from planning to battle-mode as simply as breathing. “Everyone, get to your lions. It’s time to save these people.”

“More than time,” Shiro agreed, forcing his voice into calm, easy confidence. He swallowed back nausea and focused. “Let’s go.”

**

Battles weren’t easy at the best of times. Battles where Shiro could barely focus on the screens, and where all of them were deeply emotionally compromised were worse.

The planet was set up similarly to the mining operation on the Balmera, but luckily without the added problem of a living, sentient creature to wound. With that and without a monster their to fight, this mission was... easy wasn’t the right word. But not quite so dangerous. Plenty tedious, though.

The towers and defensive mechanism were everywhere, and this time they weren’t able to sneak inside to trap in reinforcements, so there was a fleet worth of small fighter jets to deal with as well. But it was the kind of mission that Voltron wasn’t the best option for, which was something Shiro was thankful for. He was having enough trouble working with the black lion alone, much less keeping up the delicate give-and-take of all five of them in sync.

It also helped Shiro that their chats were near silent. The only time anyone spoke was the grunts of taking hits or purely factual information, with the occasional order. Enemy behind you. I’ll take the left. Cover me.

Pidge never spoke a word, and her strategies turned brutal and she never used her invisibility unless specifically asked to. She tore through enemy ships and weapons like she was in the yellow lion, not the green one.

Frankly, it was a good thing the battle was over with relatively quickly, because there was too good a chance Pidge’s shield wouldn’t last long under the abuse she was putting it through.

Eventually, they thinned the planes enough that the remaining drones and soldiers fled into the caverns, seeking shelter, and then it was the slow, annoying process of weeding out enemies from catacombs. It was no less fun here than it had been on the Balmera, but at least here they only ticking clock was in their heads.

Finally, _finally_ , they were down to the last group of soldiers, who had cornered themselves in with the prisoners. Shiro was starting to shake, and the constant movement was playing hell with his vision and stomach. So he stayed at the back of the group, despite his better judgement, and let Pidge and Keith take point as they followed them down, down, down. To the cages full of beings, changed and dirty, desperate and wounded.

The sounds and smell felt like they were building in the back of his head, right above his spine. Every other blink looked like he was somewhere else, a dark room on a Galra ship, the quiet sounds of fellow prisoners simply existing between when they were called upon.

Shaking his head, Shiro walked.

The final room held the last group of soldiers, three and their leader. They were massively outmatched, totally defeated, but dying here was probably better than whatever Zarkon would do to them. So rather than train her weapon on them, the leader pointed at the hostages. “Come at me and I’ll shoot,” she snarled, her yellow eyes desperate and vicious. “I’ll shoot them all. I have a bomb-”

“Negative,” Coran replied. “No detection of such a weapon on the planet-”

When had everyone started to sound so far away?

A growl, a voice - “Liar!” A battle cry and the crackle of electricity. Screaming, the snarl of a wounded Galra, grunts as bodies fell. Shots fired.

Where was he?

Shiro shifted jarringly, sickeningly, as he fell to his knees. He was so hot. Why was he so hot? The dungeons were normally freezing, so badly he sometimes couldn’t sleep at all. And he was so dizzy. Concusion? Must have been a fight- he hurt so badly.

“Shiro?”

The voice was so far away. Shiro cracked his eyes open, and was greeted by the gloom he’d expected, but faces he hadn’t. Who were- wait, that one he knew. But how? “Matt?”

Shiro’s vision greyed out, and spots appeared in the corner of his eyes, growing and darkening until the world went dark.

**

Cold. After how hot he’d just been, the cold felt jarring. Shiro shivered and shifted, trying to deal with the new sensation. Then there was a mechanical whirl, and the cool rushed away from him, and he was left in the standard temperature of the Castle of Lions.

Stumbling, Shiro managed to catch himself on the lip of the healing pod, taking deep breaths. What had happened? He’d been so cold, and- the mission! Where were the others? Where was Pidge? Had they found the Holts? What had happened to the rest of the soldiers?

Shiro stepped forward blindly, needing answers to his questions. He missed judged his step, legs weaker than he’d thought, and nearly fell forward, but someone caught him. Allura.

“Princess,” Shiro murmured, gently pushing himself back up. “What happened?”

Frowning at him, Allura helped him stand up steadily again. “What happened is that you collapsed with a fever. Is that what it means to have a ‘cold’ on your planet?”

Oh. Right. Well, that made sense. “Not usually,” Shiro admitted. “What happened? Where is everyone?”

“Asleep, I hope. It’s been a long couple of days.” Allura looked so exhausted, suddenly, and Shiro wanted to reach out and help, but then her words sunk in. Days? Seeing his eyes go wide, she sighed and helped guide him to the floor to sit. He took the moment to glance around. The other healing pods were filled with beings in the same sleeping-state he’d been in just moments before. He didn’t recognize any of them.

Swallowing, almost terrified of the answer, Shiro stared at Allura. “Did we...?”

Allura shook her head. “I’m afraid not. We searched the database, and there’s no sign of Pidge’s family. We did, however, find the exact coordinates of the other large mining planets, so it’s only a matter of time.”

“Damn,” Shiro murmured, and felt a twinge of guilt for cursing in front of the princess. But, well, all that for... it was wrong to call it nothing, but it _felt_ like it. “How’s Pidge?”

That drew a small smile from Allura, and something in Shiro unknotted at the sight. “Handling it as well as she can. It helps that we’ve narrowed down the possibilities significantly. If they’re out there, we’ll find them soon. And she’s been helping organize the prisoners. We’re working on getting transport from other freed planets to get them to homes, if we can. The databases on the inhabitants are extensive and detailed. It helps a lot.”

Shiro nodded slowly. “And everyone else is fine?” Allura nodded, and Shiro leaned back against the pod, sighing. “Good.”

“Everyone but you,” Allura replied, tone hardening. Shiro glanced at her, and frowned at the dark expression. “And if you ever blatantly lie to me about your abilities and health again, I will pull you from Voltron until a point I can trust you again.”

Sitting up quickly, Shiro stared at her, eyes wide. Allura couldn’t. She _wouldn’t_. Voltron was too powerful, too necessary, and without the black paladin...

But, judging by her expression, Allura knew exactly what she was saying and risking. But she thought Shiro lying like that was worse.

All the fight went out of him, and Shiro slumped back again, nodding. “Understood.” Allura was right. He couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t have, if the case hadn’t been so specific. “You understand why I did now though, right?”

“Yes,” Allura replied, voice and expression gentling. “Which is why I’m giving you the second chance at all.” Nodding his understanding, Shiro closed his eyes. “Shall we get you to your room? I’m sure you have questions, but I think the pod can be put to better use than our couch.”

Oh. Yes. Right. Standing, now with much sturdier legs, Shiro nodded. “Right.” When he walked, he could support himself, and he waved off Allura’s offered shoulder with a smile. “Let me get some exercise after sleeping for so long.”

They had just made it to the door when it opened on it’s own, and Pidge stood there. She had her pad in one hand and a blanket in the other, and she nearly dropped both when she saw them.

For a long moment, Pidge stared at Shiro. Then she cursed loudly and shoved at his chest. “You bastard!”

Allura chuckled behind her hand. “I’ll leave you two alone, then.” She ignored Shiro’s frazzled look as she left.

“Hey,” Shiro soothed, or at least tried to. “Hey! My balance isn’t that great yet. You’re going to knock me over.”

Scowling, Pidge muttered a dark ‘good’, but did subside. Her arms dropped to her side like she didn’t know what to do with them anymore.

For once, Shiro didn’t know what to say. Usually, his silences with Pidge are like silences with Keith. Comfortable and easy, not needing to fill the space. Now he did, and he didn’t know what to fill it with. Finally, he sighed. “I was heading to my room. Will you come with me? We can talk there.”

Pidge glanced at him, the look rebellious, but she nodded and followed near silently. Only the padding of her bare feet proved she was still behind him, and Shiro had to resist the urge to glance back constantly, suddenly afraid if he looked at her too hard she’d pull back, like some twisted version of the tale of Orpheus. 

The door to his room opened, and Shiro winced a little at the unmade bed. He hadn’t felt up to it in the morning, but he never liked coming back to bed with it already messy. The air was stale, proof the door probably hadn’t been opened at all while he was out, not that he would have expected it to be. Sighing, Shiro sat down on the bed, then groaned softly. Sitting was a relief. He was healed, yes, but he wasn’t at his best either, and for once he felt like he could actually sleep. But for now, he patted the spot beside him. “Do you want to sit?”

Pidge hesitated, then sat down and wrapped her blanket around her shoulders. It didn’t feel like comfort to Shiro. It felt like armor against him. He hoped he was just being sensitive. 

When Pidge still didn’t speak, Shiro spoke again. “What were you doing at the pods?”

Finally meeting his eyes, Pidge shot him a contemptuous glance. “I was worried.” The ‘don’t be stupid’ was implied but not said.

Ah. “I’m sorry,” Shiro offered, and Pidge just shrugged. “I honestly thought it wasn’t too bad. And... I wasn’t going to let them suffer longer just because I was sick. After I could deal with it.”

Pidge scowled. “They weren’t even there.” And that, he thought, was the crux of her anger. Yes, he shouldn’t have lied about his health. It put all of them in danger. But it was just one straw among many from this mission, on top of all the stress from before, and Pidge was hurt. Shiro was sorry for the part he’d played in that.

“No, they weren’t,” Shiro agreed. “We’ll find them, still. But it wasn’t this time. Still, everyone else on that planet had a day less suffering. I think it was worth it.” 

Judging by the dark look Pidge shot at her bare feet, Pidge didn’t agree with Shiro’s assessment, but she didn’t say so. When finally she did speak, her voice was quiet. “You called me Matt.”

Shiro paused. “I did?” It had been a rhetorical question, but Pidge nodded anyway. “I don’t remember. There was- it was difficult to concentrate, at that point.” Best to put it that way, and not to admit he’d been having a fever-induced flashback. It wasn’t something Shiro wanted to think about himself. “I’m sorry,” he offered, because he didn’t know what else to say in response.

Nodding, Pidge pulled the blanket in tighter. “You didn’t see us at all.”

Damn. This whole day (these days, more accurately) had just been piles and piles of wrong. Sighing, Shiro reached over and gently rested his hand on Pidge’s far shoulder. She stiffened, but slowly she leaned into him, and Shiro wrapped a one-armed hug around the blanket shell. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, more sincerely this time. “I already told Allura it won’t happen again, under pain of losing my command. And who else am I going to leave in charge? Allura said the blue paladin is usually second in command. Think I should give Lance that responsibility?” There was a hint of something that might have been a smile on another day, and Shiro mentally apologized to Lance for the teasing, but sometimes he just needed whatever advantage he could get. “We’ll find them. They’ll be okay.”

It was a bit of a conversation jump, but it really wasn’t. In the end, it was what they were really talking about. “You can’t be sure.”

“I can,” Shiro replied, as confidently as possible. And this time, it wasn’t a lie. “They’re strong. Stronger than me. They’ll survive. Knowing them, they’re probably teaching Disney songs to the other prisoners and calling them traditional Earth ballads.” That actually shocked a snort of laughter out of Pidge, so Shiro kept going. “I never even watched Hercules before, but Matt kept singing that one song at me over and over, and now I can never forget it anymore. I came out of it with amnesia, but the song? That stuck around. Of course it did. I kept singing it in the shower without having any idea where I knew it from until I remembered.”

 

Slowly, Pidge lowered the blanket a little. “Dad loves those old movies,” she admitted. Shiro was mostly glad she wasn’t using past tense. “He has one of those old VHS tape things from centuries ago. It’s always sealed because if we opened it to air, the film is so old it’d probably fall apart.”

They swapped stories for hours. At some point, Shiro shifted sideways, so he was sitting lengthwise in bed, the covers pulled up to his waist, while Pidge leaned backwards, perpendicular to his legs, to rest against the wall.

At some point, they must have tapered off, because Shiro suddenly found himself lying back in the dark room, a heavy weight pressed against his side. At first he tensed, confused and uncertain, but he recognized the curls and glasses. Pidge. She’d fallen asleep on top of the covers, her own blanket wrapped around her, and her back pressed against his thighs and stomach. Her glasses were skewed and nearly standing up, in danger of falling off and tumbling off the bed.

Reaching down, Shiro gently tugged them away. Pidge stirred but didn’t fully wake, falling back asleep quickly. He considered getting her up and sending her back to her room, but honestly he was just glad she was sleeping deeply. He hated waking her at the best of times, much less right now. And, well, that’d be such a bother, and he was so tired too...

Shiro folded the glasses and set them on the built-in bedside table by the head of the bed. Then he settled back down himself and closed his eyes.

For once, he was asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonding time!
> 
> Because Voltron takes place in The Future (tm) I try to keep the references to a minimum. Star Wars is too much of a cultural force to fully go away (and Lance is enough of a dork to drop quotes), so that sneaks in sometimes, but I can't quote most Disney movies from 40 years ago, much less, what, 200? 300? Yeah. But here you go. A justification for an obligatory Hercules reference. Mostly I just really find it funny to think of Shiro having a Disney song stuck in head and just freezing because, wait, that's in English? Where the hell did he learn THAT from in space?? (And then about ten minutes later: "DAMMIT, MATT." This probably isn't the first time)
> 
> (Hm, what's this? Are we getting kind of angsty already? Hmm, that doesn't bode well at all, does it?)
> 
> One of these days I'm just going to finally write the Holt Rescue Fic that I've been circling around with headcanons for the past month.


	4. "It's Not That Bad"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bang Bang

The battle raged around them.

Shiro was crouched, arm unlit but tense as he listened, aware their cover - a small, rotting shelter on the planet’s mountainous terrain - was flimsy at best. He and Hunk had landed to try and investigate rumors of some new weapon the Galra were developing. And at first, the mission hadn’t felt like such an ordeal. There had been Death Star and wookie jokes, and the two-man team had been better for sneaking around, with the other lions waiting in the wings to provide cover fire if need be.

Then they’d just gotten unlucky. A guard had stumbled on them sabotaging the weapon and managed to get off the alarm before Shiro or Hulk could stop him. They’d had to run.

Even that had been fine. They’d had to give up on plans and bolt dozens of times before.

What made it new was that, when a drone fired at Shiro’s back, Hunk had gotten in the way.

As he went down, Hunk fired off from his bayard, taking out their tail. Then he’d hit the ground and cried out, and even with his armor on, there had been blood. Lots of blood.

This bare shelter wasn’t just flimsy. It was _obvious_ , and if Shiro and Hunk didn’t have the other three firing and circling from above, they would have been dead by now.

“We’ve got this,” Keith assured him. “So long as the weapon is out, we can keep them off you. Just wait till it’s clear.”

Shiro nodded and murmured his agreement, then went back to getting Hunk out of his chest armor to inspect the damage.

There was a hole ripped clean through Hunk’s side, and he was bleeding steadily. Already, he’d gone grey, and Shiro used his hands to hold back as much as he could.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Hunk asked, quietly. Thankfully, he’d had the foresight to take off his helmet before he asked, so the others wouldn’t hear over the comms. But that didn’t make it easier to deal with the question.

Steeling himself, Shiro met Hunk’s gaze. “No. It’s not that bad.” He considered for a moment, then let go of the wound to rip the lining out of Hunk’s chest plate. It would work better than Shiro’s hands to slow the blood. “A side wound like this will always bleed a lot, especially as clean as it is. But it didn’t hit anything vital.” Or, at least, Shiro hoped not. He didn’t think he could see anything but torn muscle and far more blood than he wanted to see. It was hard to tell, though. Too hard to be certain. 

Hunk didn’t look convinced, but he gave a shaky nod and settled back down. His bayard had revered seconds after he collapsed, but he was still clinging to it. Shiro wasn’t inclined to take it from him if it was providing comfort. “It feels like it did,” he murmured.

Not knowing what to say to that - and why didn’t he have words now, of all times? - Shiro worked on getting the make-shift bandaged wrapped around Hunk as best he could. “I’m sure it hurts,” he finally managed, pitching his voice soothingly. “But the pod will fix it up, no problem. Then you get to take a nice, cold nap while the rest of us try to manage without you. Our mechanic and our cook? We’re doomed without you.”

Hunk coughed out a laugh, then groaned. “Ow. Laughing hurts. And you guys will manage.” His smile got a little sad, eyes a little distance, and Shiro realized he didn’t mean for just a couple of days.

“Pretty sure we’re useless without you,” Shiro replied. “So you’ll just have to get better quick, that’s all.” Hunk nodded agreeably, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “And after this, you’re never allowed to do this again, understood?”

Frowning, Hunk tilted his head. “Get hit?”

That drew a snort from Shiro. “Yes, that. But especially not for me. That’s an order.”

Hunk closed his eyes, but he was still frowning. “Sorry, Shiro, no can do. That’s my job.”

“No, it’s not!” Shiro snapped out, and Hunk’s eyes flew open, startled. “Sorry. But it’s not, Hunk. It’s one thing in the yellow lion, where you have more armor than us, but that’s not the case the rest of the time. I’m sorry I haven’t spoken up earlier about this. You aren’t our shield. You’re our mechanic and our teammate and we need you for more than that. So that’s an _order_.”

The frown deepened. “But you’re our leader. I can’t let you-”

Shiro held up a hand. Then he took off his helmet, just to make sure no one could hear him. “I’m the most expendable of us. Easily. You are not to take hits for me.”

Gaping, Hunk shook his head. “Shiro...”

“I’m serious,” Shiro replied. “It’s logistics. Allura can fly the black lion.” He paused, letting that settle. “It wouldn’t be optimal. We need her to fly the ship as well, and doing that from the black lion would be logistically difficult. But Allura has all the traits she needs, and the connection to the lions. She could do it. But there’s no one who can take the yellow lion. So you are not expendable. Do you hear me?”

Finally, Hunk nodded. “I hate this,” he told Shiro, voice pitched lower than usual. There was a venom Shiro wasn’t used to hearing in him, a dangerous rumble even through the breathy quality of pain. “I hate thinking that way. Who’s most necessary? Who we can replace easiest? Who it’s okay to let die?” He paused, coughing again, then he groaned in pain, and all Shiro could do was _watch_. “I don’t think that way.”

Shiro shrugged one shoulder. “I have to.” Hunk didn’t look happy, but he didn’t object, either. “And, Hunk, honestly. Do you think I could ever forgive myself if you’d died out there protecting me?”

That made Hunk pause. “Maybe not,” he finally replied. His voice was getting fainter, is words slower and farther apart. “But do you think I could forgive myself if you died and I could have helped you?”

“It wouldn’t have been your fault. A solution that involves someone taking the shot instead isn’t a solution at all.” Shiro reached down and smoothed Hunk’s hair away from his face. Blood smeared on the headband, and he closed his eyes against the sight. “My order stands.”

Hunk didn’t reply. Instead, he settled back down and seemed to concentrate on breathing. His lungs were clear, since the shot had been well above them, but the effort of it looked like it was taking it’s toll.

Reaching for his helmet, Shiro tugged it back on. “Status report.”

“We’re through the bulk of it,” Pidge replied, voice strained. “Give us about twenty.”

Shiro hoped they had that. “Understood. I know there’s only the three of you and the castle, but if you get the chance...”

“If there’s a break, Keith’s gunna go down and get you. He can get there in less than a minute,” Lance replied, uncharacteristically serious. The problem with that was that Keith was also great at interception and getting to threats quickest, and it was hard to spare him for something like a rescue mission.

Shiro winced, glad they couldn’t see him right now. “I’ll keep you updated.” He got three affirmatives, then he checked over Hunk again. Pulse too fast, making up for the wound. Skin clammy. Responsive, but slow. Probably dizzy.

Nothing good, but nothing that said ‘about to die in the next ten minutes’.

Now that Hunk wasn’t talking or watching, Shiro stood and paced. It was a bad idea to talk, because he didn’t want to take the helmet off or let them hear him, so instead he just mouthed what he wanted to hear aloud.

Hunk was going to be fine. Hunk was tough. Hunk was too real, too vital, too important to die, so he wouldn’t, simple as that. Anything he needed to hear to keep calm and thinking clearly.

Shiro hoped this time, he wasn’t lying, if only to himself.

After ten minutes of pacing, checking on Hulk’s vitals and communicating with Coran and Allura, Keith finally spoke up. “I have a break on my side. Can you guys take over?”

“Affirmative,” Lance replied, immediate and without a hint of argument. “Go get them.”

It only took seconds for Shiro to hear the roar of a lion’s engines in landing mode outside their shelter. “Once we get to the castle, I’ll grab the black lion-”

“Unnecessary, Shiro,” Pidge replied. “We’ve got this. Once we’re not covering your location we’ll be able to take out the rest.”

Shiro thinned his lips. Part of him had wanted to get out there and use all this helpless energy on something that deserved it. But he nodded. “Understood.” Then, after a moment, he continued. “Thank you.”

Keith opened the door then, and between the two of them, they picked Hunk up as carefully as possible and got him into the red lion. The trip wasn’t smooth, and Keith was forced to bank to avoid enemy fire, since Red simply didn’t have the shields to take hits. With every sway, Hunk groaned weakly, and Shiro did his best to keep Hunk as stable as possible.

Once in the castle, Keith had to head back out, but they had the technology to get Hunk to the healing pods without carrying him by hand, thank everything. Hunk regained consciousness just as they were setting to put him in, and he met Shiro’s gaze. He opened his mouth like he was going to talk, but then visibly gave up and just offered a thankful smile.

Shiro smiled back. “Told you we’d get you here. Now rest up.” The pod closed before Hunk could do more than nod, and his eyes fell shut in a healing sleep.

Suddenly free of the need to keep a straight face, Shiro snapped his eyes closed against the threat of tears and rested his head against the glass.

Coran rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be alright. Scans say it should only be a day or two until he’s right as rain.”

Shiro swallowed. “Yeah. He will be.” He trusted Coran’s word more than his own, on this point, and slowly he relaxed. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I understand.” And Coran was military, and he’d lost his whole planet. No doubt he did understand the fear, know the horror of watching someone take a hit on the battlefield. “Would you like to stay for a while, or do you want to come to the control room with us?”

Shiro wanted to stay. Desperately. He wanted to keep an eye on Hunk’s vitals, to know he was still there, to have proof the stillness in the pod wasn’t death. But he had a responsibility to the others, and Hunk would sleep for a while. “I’ll come.” Coran patted his back again, then mercifully stayed quiet as they walked out.

***

It took just over two days for Hunk to wake. When he did, just as with Lance, they were all waiting for him. This time, the managed not to get distracted by alien timekeeping methods.

Lance latched onto him immediately and murmured out something that sounded like scolding. At first, Hunk jolted, probably not expecting to be half-tackled the second he opened his eyes, but then he smiled and wrapped his arms around Lance, replying in equally low tones.

After that, the room exploded into noise, with everyone trying to talk to Hunk about something. “I paused the pack project”, Pidge told him, though the shady way she glanced back at Shiro and the vague language meant it was probably time to start wandering into the lab more to see what they were up to. “We were going to figure out a hobby for me,” Keith said plainly, one hand hovering over Hunk’s arm, and it was a sign of how upset Lance had been that he didn’t raise to the easy bait.

Eventually, the chaos died down, and Hunk was left with a pink face and wet-looking eyes. He still looked shaky, so Shiro offered to help him get to his room and get resettled. On the way, Hunk shot him a smile. “You were right.”

“I told you it wasn’t that bad,” Shiro answered easily. With a couple of days of distance, it felt less and less like he’d lied, even if his dreams tried to convince him otherwise.

Hunk shook his head. “No. I mean, yeah, but not that. About being needed. It’s nice.” He paused, then frowned. “You’re wrong about you, though. We can’t afford to lose anyone, but definitely not you.”

It wasn’t worth arguing about, so Shiro just shot him a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Emotions were running high, right? As long as you remember not to take hits for people, I’m happy.”

He really must have been exhausted, because Hunk just nodded agreeably to that, and soon Shiro had him settled in his room to sleep off the side effects of the healing pod.

And if it took a couple of little lies to keep the peace, Shiro was okay with that. Let the other paladins focus on what they needed to. He’d keep the big picture in mind. It was his job to, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hunk got to be the one to take the hit, because a) you gotta feel like being the tank-lion would do something to you, and b) it’s never Hunk. Why is it never Hunk? Someone hurt/comfort my precious yellow child! 
> 
> FYI ‘Hunk and Keith find Keith a hobby’ is definitely a fic that’s coming someday.
> 
> Next week... Mind Controlled Shiro : )


	5. “I’m fine”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't wake up this is not a dream.
> 
> You are part of a machine, you are not a human being.

“Are you okay?” Keith asked Shiro, as the paladins walked to training. He sounded confused, and maybe just a bit wary, like he wasn’t sure of his welcome. 

Maybe. It was hard to hear over the ticking, the slow clockwork in Shiro’s mind.

Brows jumping, Shiro tilted his head. “I’m fine,” he told him, tone comforting. “Why, is something up?”

An hour and a half ago, right when he’d woken up, something inside of Shiro would have been screaming. That part has since been silenced, and all that was left was cold, simply clarity, and the purple film over his vision. The mechanical _click, click, click_ of a toy soldier, going where he was pointed.

Now he was pointed toward the training room.

Keith frowned. “You just seemed a little quiet at breakfast.”

Had he been? Shiro hadn’t thought so. No more than normal. After all, Shiro wasn’t often the most talkative at breakfast, usually because he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before.

And, well, last night he hadn’t gotten much either, just for a different reason.

“It was a long night,” Shiro replied, voice purposefully dry, and he looked away like he was embarrassed. He held it there, counting the ticks, held it for five, then glanced back over.

After another moment of staring, Keith backed off and nodded. “I just wanted to make sure.” And with that he slowed his pace, matching with Pidge instead. 

Shiro glanced back at them once, keeping his expression locked into indulgent curiosity. Then he focused on the plans for the day. On his mission.

The day’s training had been planned as a range test of their bond with the lions. That was now unacceptable. It was too likely that he would not be able to connect, or that the lion would notice and react. And that training was not conductive to his mission. He was to gather information on the paladins, then to transmit that data back. For that, he needed to study them in action.

As they entered in training room, Shiro whirled on his heel and clapped his hands together. “Change of plans.”

The other paladins paused and frowned. While Allura was known to change things up depending on circumstances, unless something big had happened, Shiro wasn’t. However, it was unavoidable today. While this contradicted the order to lay low and to not draw attention to himself, the greater mission overrode that objection.

After sharing a glance with the others, Lance crossed his arms and scowled. “We were going to work with the lions today. I was looking forward to that.”

“We can do that this afternoon,” Shiro lied, tone earnest. “But I realized it’s been too long since we worked one on one. Team building exercises are all well and good, but we also need to keep track of our individual progress.”

Lance still looked mutinous, while Pidge and Keith shared another look, this time pulling Hunk into it.

Something was brewing between the others, but it would pass if he could get through this. As long as he could convince them for a short while, he could complete the mission. Perhaps they would even do the original training in the afternoon, if the secondary objective was compromised. The memories of the morning would be tucked away somewhere safe, leaving Shiro confused but not surprised. It wouldn’t be the first time his mind had _skipped_ for a few hours, though never for this particular reason.

Keith was the first to break. He sighed and nodded, crossing his arms as well. “Fine. Sparring with you?” Good. It was time to continue, then. When Keith stepped up, Shiro nodded to his bayard. He needed that information as well. The frown deepened, but Keith obediently opened it. Then he attacked.

Working in sync with the mechanics in his head, Shiro used his metal arm to block the sword, then aiming a non-lit strike back, to test reaction time. Mostly, he kept on the defensive, goading Keith into more attacks. The red paladin circled him and Shiro followed, keeping a careful eye on him, looking for tells, for weaknesses-

The crackle of electricity startled him, suddenly and loud compared to the _ticks_ , and Shiro could only start to twist around to face Pidge before the bayard was pressed into his back.

His vision went dark.

**

The clockwork didn’t let him sleep. Shiro had a mission.

Two ticks, then opening his eyes. Three ticks, then sitting up. One tick, then looking around.

Shiro was on a cot in a room he didn’t recognize. There were many around the castle that no longer had a purpose, and it seemed they had decided it was best not to leave Shiro in his own room.

Wise, but unfortunate. He could have gotten out of there quickly. 

Tilting his head, Shiro closed his eyes and listened. There were faint murmurs from down the hallway, growing slowly louder.

“It’s definitely from the arm.” Pidge’s voice, matter-of-fact and subdued. “From the brain-wave scans, it’s like it’s suppressing his mind. He’s awake, but he’s not really there.”

A pause in conversation, and slightly off footstep. Someone had stopped to gesture. “It was creepy.” Lance. “He was all... I don’t even know.”

“Calculated.” Keith, tone dark. “Stiff.”

A sigh. Hunk. “Robotic. Like the arm. Makes sense, in a really creepy way.” They were close now. Shiro didn’t even have to concentrate to hear them. “I kinda don’t even wanna go in.” Another silence, this time guilty. “I mean I’m gunna! I just... I don’t like it.”

“He’s probably still unconscious,” Pidge informed him. The door clicked as it unlocked. Shiro considered and tensed, but then relaxed. A break-out now was unlikely. Better not to inform them of the possibility and make other attempts less likely. “The tranquilizers Coran gave him were supposed to keep down a raging Mantadon. Whatever those-” The door open, and she froze mid-word as they spotted him, awake, sitting, and watching. No longer bothering to project emotion.

Hunk visibly shuddered.

The silence lasted three clockwork clicks before Lance broke it. “Um. Hey. You feeling better?”

Shiro didn’t bother to answer.

There was another pause, and Shiro noticed distantly that they all looked rattled Fearful, even. Of him.

For one tick, something welled in him, horrified and pained and guilty, but then it was gone.

Swallowing, Pidge straightened up, collecting herself. “If I come over there to take your vitals, will you attack me?”

Shiro considered that. He had no reason to hide the mission, now that he had already failed to keep them from becoming suspicious. And he still needed the data. “Yes.”

“Why?” Hunk burst out, like Shiro had told him he kicked puppies. 

There was a noise like feedback in Shiro’s ears, and his chest felt too tight, like he was containing something he was too small for. The sensation lasted for several moments of clockwork before it faded again. “I need the data.”

Keith stepped forward. “Then I’ll spar you, and you stay still while-”

A hand on his shoulder made Keith pause, and he scowled back at Lance, who was watching Shiro seriously. “Bad idea, man. He wanted you to fight with weapons. And you can’t fight to harm.” Not won’t. Can’t. Shiro closed his eyes against another shrill whine that tried to take over his senses again. But then they reopened. Lack of visual stimulation was a detriment to the mission.

Teeth gritted, Keith looked like he wanted to argue, but he subsided and shrugged. “I don’t like it.”

“None of us do,” Hunk replied, and Shiro started to tense in preparation. Perhaps he had miscalculated before, to not attempt escape immediately. Slowly, to not draw attention to himself, he shifted his grip and his footing, prepared to jump off and get passed them before they could attack him.

Then Pidge pressed a button on her pad, and the cot under him rumbled to life, and Shiro slammed down onto it hard, yanked down by his arm.

A magnet. It wasn’t a cot at all - they’d just put blankets down on a magnetized worktable.

Panic overwhelmed him, louder than the feedback, louder than the ticking. He was trapped, he was being held down, _he had to get out_ , he had to tell them, had to warn them, he wasn’t allowed up they were holding him he was captive _he was trapped_.

Finally, the clockwork overwhelmed even the panic. It violently tore him back from the images in his head, returning him to the mission. The mission was more important.

If Shiro hadn’t been forcibly lying on his back, he would have swayed from the painful tug-and-pull of his mind. Instead, he just closed his eyes, listening with half an ear on the others as he got his breath.

Lance was murmuring in Spanish, voice rough and pitched low. “ _Lo siento._ ” Even without the castle’s translation, Shiro knew what he meant. “ _Perdóname._ ”

“It’s safest,” Pidge murmured to him, and even without looking, Shiro could predict the hard, thin line of her mouth and the set of her shoulders. She’d give no quarter to him.

Clenching his natural hand, because the metal one was pressed flat and he couldn’t move it, not even an inch, Shiro breathed with the ticks. In for six. Hold for four. Out for six. Again. Again.

 _Tick tick tick_.

Shiro heard the sound of a chair scraping across the room, and his eyes snapped open to see Hunk taking a seat next to his arm. Then he dragged over another table, and Shiro wondered, for a moment, why nothing else seemed to be affected by the magnet. Eventually, he recognized that he must have calibrated it for Galra materials, so Hunk’s tools and the parts of the ship weren’t affected.

Emotions welled again in Shiro, this time fierce and proud, but they were snuffed quickly. They weren’t necessary.

“You’re not gunna do anything now, right? You know you’re pretty helpless with your arm stuck like that. Won’t do you any good to fight.” Hunk’s voice quavered, like he was really trying to convince himself. 

Shiro just closed his eyes and tried to calculate what to do next. Here, there was no way for Shiro to complete his mission. He needed to be free to gather the appropriate data. They wouldn’t voluntarily let him up, not when they thought it was best for Shiro to stay safe and secured.

Shiro’s best bet was to distract them, or compromise them through their emotions.

So while Hunk started to settle in, doing more tests on the arm, do doubt trying to override it (it wouldn’t work, Shiro knew that, bone deep. This was in him like blood, like bones, they could try and rip out the arm and it wouldn’t help, it was in his _brain_ ), Shiro opened his eyes again and stared at him, preparing himself.

Then he spoke.

“Hunk.” Shiro’s voice came out ragged and stressed. Wounded. Hunk froze, then his eyes darted up, already wide. “Please, don’t do this. I-I can’t...” He swallowed hard, like he was fighting nausea. Then he blinked, sudden and fast, twice per tick, like his eyes were wet. “It’s like I’m... I’m back there. I won’t do anything. Let me up. _Please,_ Hunk.”

Hunk had probably never expected this tactic. He wavered, hands shaking, but then he glanced back at the others. Shiro followed his gaze. Lance was looking away completely, and Keith didn’t seem able to pick his gaze up from the ground, but Pidge only gave Hunk a solemn nod.

Time to up the ante.

Breath hitching, Shiro yanked at his metal arm. It didn’t give at all. His breath came faster, no longer the measured pace of before. “You can, I know you can. Please, Hunk.” Guilt flashed over Hunk’s face, open and painful, and Shiro readjusted, then continued. “I understand, I do. But I won’t get up. I just.. I don’t want to go back.” 

That comment made all of them freeze. “Go back to what?” Keith asked, voice rough, like he wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know.

“It’s quiet, now,” Shiro replied, keeping his head down. “I don’t jump at shadows. I could sleep like this. I could relax. Do you know how long it’s been since I slept a full night?” Hunk shook his head, slowly, like the response was auto-pilot rather than an actual reply. “Over a year. I haven’t slept well in _years_. Please don’t take that from me. I can’t go back to it. It hurt so much, all the time. Please, Hunk. Anyone, _please_.”

Tears welled and then spilled onto Hunk’s cheeks. He sniffled, and his hands shook. Then he stood and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I’m done now.”

With that, he turned and nearly ran out. Lance glanced at Shiro one more time before following him out, already calling Hunk’s name. For nearly ten _ticks_ , Keith stared, fists clenched as if to keep from shaking, and then he murmured an apology and stepped out as well, steps more measured than the other two.

And then Pidge was the only one left. She frowned, but the expression was one Shiro had trouble reading, half hidden behind her hair and the pad she was still scanning with. Finally, she sighed and dropped it. Shiro didn’t even bother to speak - he didn’t think it would work, not on just Pidge, not with that look. Before he could recalibrate and try again ( _her family, switch to her family_ ), she spoke. “When you’re back? You’re going to really hate yourself for saying that. Try not to, okay?”

With that, she spun on her heel and turned away.

The projected emotions melted away now that there was no target. Frowning, Shiro glanced around the room, examining what was available to him, now that he wasn’t being watched. Then he started to plan.

**

It was 7187 ticks before Shiro heard footsteps. Already, this mentality was starting to drain him. It was designed for high volumes of data retention, and as such was meant for short, several hour bursts, and it worked best when there was a lot for him to observe. The quiet, unchanging stillness of the quiet room was driving his brain into overdrive, trying to find some new information, something of value, anything at all.

Shiro tensed, planting his feet and waiting.

The footsteps had already let him know there were several people coming, but it was a surprise when the door opened, and everyone was there. An unfortunate one, too, because that would make escape a more difficult process.

The other paladins were noticeably subdued, but Coran stepped forward, clapping his hands together. “Well, then, seems you’re a bit under the weather, aren’t you?” The tone was a bit much, even for Coran, and it was fairly obvious he was trying to lighten the situation for the others. “But we should be all set to get you fixed right up, no worries.” He reached down and grabbed either side of the table by Shiro’s head, then stepped down hard, probably unlocking the wheels so it could be moved.

That was when Shiro folded himself in half at the chest and _kicked_.

It wasn’t the best strike Shiro had ever managed, but no one had claimed he wasn’t flexible. He used the arm as a counter-balance to push off of, and managed to plant both feet solidly in Coran’s chest, even when it was right over his head. 

The hit sent Coran stumbling back, coughing as air was forced out of him. While everyone was still reacting, Shiro swung his legs back to the side with enough force that the whole table shifted onto the two side wheels, and he could place one foot on the ground, taking advantage of the sudden mobility.

Shiro had calculated the angles already, and so he already knew which way he wanted to push - between Pidge and Lance, who were unlikely to be the first to physically react, or to have the strength to stop him without preparation. Once he was out of range he’d be able to knock down the table and undo the wiring that charged the table, but for now he needed to get out of the room.

What he didn’t plan for was that Allura would calmly step over and slam the table back onto four wheels with all the casual grace of a cat batting down a wounded bird. Then she pressed her forearm against his chest, pinning him down as effectively as the magnet was holding his arm. “That’s quite enough of that,” she told him, voice flat.

Scrambling desperately, Shiro got his feet against the table again, and his metal hand lit up in automatic response. But with the magnet still keeping his arm so still, all he managed to do was burn through the blankets over the table and touch the bare metal, making the whole thing hum ominously.

Sighing, Allura pulled her other hand back then smacked him soundly across the face.

The feedback noise started again, or maybe his ears were just ringing. Either way, the shock made him go still for just a moment, which was enough for Allura to shift her grip and use one hand to old his natural arm down, while the other forearm locked him down at his knees.

_Trapped trapped trapped trapped._

Panic took over, worse than the first time. So much so that the ticks went fully quiet, or maybe he just didn’t hear him. It lasted for a while this time, but soon the clockwork reasserted itself, grabbing his thoughts and yanking them back into place.

As he blinked back into awareness, Shiro vaguely realized his nose was bleeding. He didn’t think it was from the slap.

Now that he was still, the group had started to move him again. Distantly, he saw Lance pick Coran up, patting him on the shoulder. He didn’t look wounded so much as frazzled. There was a flash of relief in Shiro’s gut, but it died in less than a single tick.

By the time they got to the workstation, it was clear Shiro was outmatched. He’d failed the mission, primary and secondary. He’d been caught almost immediately, and would be again. 

Tilting his head to the side, he caught Keith watching, expression solemn. Pale, nearly sickly. The emotions stirred, but barely. He hurt too much to maintain them. “We’re gunna get them out,” Keith told him, voice low and serious. Comforting. 

It didn’t work.

Then something pressed against the other side of his neck and there was a sudden moment of pain, different from the throbbing in his head.

Then there was no pain at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Fandom, we need to have a Talk. Because mind-controlled!Shiro is everywhere, but there’s basically no fic. Join me, and together we can correct this travesty. ~~Yes, there’s porn, but ask yourself: is it enough porn? The answer is no~~.
> 
> As much fun as the 'snarky evil bad guy' version of mind control ("Kuro", sigh) is, I find this more likely and just as interesting. Because a) it's multi-functional, good for whatever needs Haggar/whoever had for Shiro (applicable to any 'mission') and B) because the 'you will infiltrate the lions' just... doesn't make sense? Like, if it was the plan from the beginning. Not only would the Lions prooobably not work for someone being controlled, since, you know, psychic personality lion robots from the space future, but Zarkon had NO idea that Shiro was going to end up the Black Paladin, no idea that the lions would even be found in a soon-ish timeframe, ect.
> 
> Also, I may have tried to make it work and just... couldn't justify it. Where does that come from? Unless someone is feeding Shiro lines (which totally ruins the 'exactly where it hurts' potential), there's no justification fro why he's acting that way. It's not fundamentally who Shiro is.
> 
> /rant
> 
> We can have it all, though, fandom. Join me, and together we will rule the galaxy. Fandom. Whatever. 
> 
> Next week will be a direct continuation of this one, by the way.


	6. "I'm too dangerous"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Low on self-esteem so you run on gasoline

When Shiro woke, the first thing he noticed was the silence.

The inside of his head was quiet. So much so that the lack of sound felt like a constant, steady roar between his ears, highlighting what wasn’t there anymore. Like an echo. He felt _empty_.

Slowly, Shiro opened his eyes.

The workroom was dark. It was full of sounds, but subdued ones. Quiet beeping, the hum of electronics, and the increasing, clicking pace of something that was probably monitoring his heart rate. For a moment, he just stared at the ceiling and concentrated on breathing, trying to count ticks that were no longer there out of sheer habit.

Shiro remembered. He remembered everything. And he wished he didn’t. He knew he’d spied on them for the Galra, that he’d tried to hurt them, that he’d openly tried to manipulate them. He knew he’d told them more than he’d ever wanted to imply about himself.

He remembered exactly what a danger he was.

“Awake, are you?” Shiro turned his head to the door. Allura was standing there, a cup in her hand. Steam gently wafted from it, and the sight of her setting in the chair next to him and calmly sipping her drink was somehow domestic after the chaos of the previous day. “We have some things to discuss, I believe.”

Nodding, Shiro slowly sat up. He was surprised he was able to. Glancing down, he stared at the metal arm. It responded normally. Why the hell wasn’t he restrained? He slowly picked his head up, and took a moment to be thankful it was Allura who had come in, and not Keith or Pidge. Or, god forbid, Lance or Hunk. Neither of them would take this well. “I’m too dangerous. You should kill me.”

Allura choked on her drink, then stared at him. “I beg your pardon.”

“You should kill me,” Shiro replied, tone even. His natural hand clenched into the covers. “Or leave me somewhere. I don’t- that’d take longer, and who knows what kind of damage I could do in the meantime, and killing me is the only way to be sure. I hate to ask it of you, but I trust you to be able to make a clear decision and do this.”

Mouth open, Allura slowly set down the cup. “I- Shiro, don’t be ridiculous. I can’t even begin to address all the problems with that. To start, we need you to form Voltron-”

Shiro shook his head, eyes wild. “No, you can-”

“Shiro!” Allura snapped, stopping him before he could start. “I can’t fly the lion and the ship at the same time, honestly. Assuming the black lion would even react to me, which we don’t know it would.” She held up her hand to stop his protests, still glaring. “And besides, it’s not necessary!”

In response, Shiro gestured toward his mental arm, then his head, scowling.

Allura rolled her eyes. “Shiro, you’re _awake_.”

At first, Shiro opened his mouth to barrel past that, then he paused. He was awake. Why was he awake? “I... even so...”

“Even so,” Allura parroted back dryly. “One moment...” She paused to press her hand to one of the control panels, bringing up the intercoms. “Coran, would you please come here? Shiro’s awake. Keep it quiet for the moment. I think we need to talk before the others find out.” 

There was an affirmative answer, and only a few moments later, Coran entered the door. “Hello there, number one!” He greeted easily, carrying his own mug. 

Shiro paused to wonder where the drinks were all coming from, but the thought left quickly as shame choked him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, eyes on Coran’s chest. It was covered by his shirt, but Shiro could remember with crystal clarity how hard he’d hit him. “Are you alright?”

“Of course!” Coran huffed, taking a seat next to Allura. “We’re a tough people, you know. Takes more than that to do me in! Might have lost my breath for a few moments, but if you were yourself, I’d have had you down in two seconds flat. The ‘ole shoulder pinch would have put you out, simple as that.” Coran nodded to himself, sipping from the mug. “Besides, that’s the question I should be asking you, I think.”

Shiro stared down at his lap and shrugged one shoulder, frowning. He didn’t understand how everyone was so... calm about this. He was _a threat_. He was a spy, and he’d used his knowledge of them and himself to hurt the others. “How... how did...?”

Putting down the mug, Coran reached over onto the table and threw something flat and wired onto Shiro’s lap. He picked it up, brows raising. It looked like Galra tech. “Really, you lot need to start communicating more. To think that was just sitting in you all this time! When we put you down, Number Five and Number Two told me about the technology in there, and then I overrode it. After that, it was just a matter of deactivating what it connected to neurologically.” Coran’s mustache twitched fondly. “The pair of them are quite amazing when it comes to technology, I’ll admit it. But they have a ways to go before they match me.”

Blinking slowly, Shiro dropped his hand into his lap. Now, in hindsight, it seemed obvious to ask Coran what he knew about the technology involved with his arm. At the time, it just... hadn’t even occurred to him. To any of them. And it wasn’t like Shiro went around discussing the particulars of his arm, anyway. Mostly he liked to not think about it, and just use it as a way to defend the others. “I see.” He flipped the little chip around in his hand. It was half the size of his palm, and it had taken over his body. Feeling suddenly cold, Shiro dropped it. “And that’s it? It’s done?”

Allura sighed. “We hope so. Your arm is... unique. We can’t be 100 percent.” Then she scowled at him. “That’s no reason to go around killing you, though.”

“Killing him?” Coran repeated, eyes wide. “Killing you? What in the universe brought that up?”

Scowling, Shiro tossed the chip back to Coran, who fumbled it and nearly dropped it into his mug. “I’m dangerous.”

“So’s a kitchen knife,” Coran replied, huffing. “Doesn’t mean you break it if you get cut. And besides, think beyond the immediate, here. What happens if we do that? The other paladins would never speak to us again.”

Shiro frowned. “They’d understand.”

The pair of them just stared at him until he frowned and looked away. Okay, maybe not. Keith mig- no, probably not. Pidge? Unlikely. And Lance and Hunk were out.

Then why did it feel like Shiro was taking the coward’s way out?

Allura must have seen something in his expression, because she stood and moved over, settling on the side of the bed. “I think we can risk a couple of days to test this, don’t you? We did figure you out nearly immediately, and now we know what to do with you. And it’s been a long day. Perhaps making a snap decision isn’t the best call right now. We’re all a little compromised.”

Lips curling in what wasn’t quite a smile, Shiro glanced up at her. “And here I thought the Black Paladin was supposed to be the one to always keep a cool head and make the smart call.”

“We’ll make an exception today,” Allura replied easily. “We can’t all be perfect leaders all the time.”

Shiro finally met her eyes. “Then how do you manage?”

Going faintly red at the cheeks, Allura shoved his shoulder gently. “None of that. Flattery won’t get you anywhere, today.” She stood and brushed off her dress, like she was trying to look anywhere but at his face. “And Shiro... we’ll talk again soon, alright? Clearly, we need to communicate more, and I think it’s better for us to... ease the burden, a bit. Neither of us has to do it alone.”

That made sense. Shiro and Allura talked fairly often, but usually about big picture ideas. Mission overviews and logistics. The Galra Empire and how it operated. Not much about their day-to-day. Shiro had always just shouldered that as his job, but clearly that hadn’t been a good call. So he nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get another drink.” Allura picked up her mug and drained the rest of it. “And I’ll tell the other paladins you’re awake when I’m there. So you have about five minutes to collect yourself.” Patting him one last time on the shoulder, she stepped out, the door closing behind her.

When Shiro glanced at Coran, he was watching him back, eyebrows up and expression amused. Shiro colored but set his jaw and didn’t look away. Finally, Coran just grinned and nodded to him. Then his expression sobered. “While we’re on the subject of talking... I know I can be quite the intimidating figure, but I hope you feel comfortable approaching me if you feel the need to talk. I’ve had my share of battles, and I’ve known many who struggled with the memories after. If you ever have the need, I might be a valuable resource for you.”

For a long moment, Shiro just stared. Guilt crept in again, this time for a new reason. They’d really done Coran a disservice, somewhere along the way. He often seemed so goofy that it was easy to forget exactly what he’d been through. “I’ll remember that. Thank you.” He smiled at Coran, small but sincere.

Coran hummed in agreement, eyeing him shrewdly. Then one ear twitched. “Ah, that’d be my cue to leave.”

“What?” Shiro replied, brow furrowed.

All he got in reply was a smirk as Coran stood and stepped out, the door closing behind him. Then, Shiro started to hear the voices of the other paladins.

Ah. That cue.

The door opened again, and the four of them burst in with all the subtle grace of a train off its tracks. Shiro expected a pause, or at least some form of hesitation. Despite himself, he remembered when they’d first rescued him, and the way Lance had stalled before shaking the metal hand.

There was none of that now. Lance was the first one to launch himself at Shiro, nearly throwing himself over the cot to latch onto his shoulders and pull him into a hug. Surprise made Shiro freeze, but Lance didn’t let go, and the hold had Shiro’s forehead nearly smashing into Lance’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” Lance said, in the same tone he’d apologized in Spanish earlier. “We didn’t want to, but it was the best way to keep you safe-”

Shiro pulled back enough to actually see Lance’s face, then glanced back at the rest of them as they crowded around him. “About the magnet? That was _genius_ , why would I be upset?”

Hunk sat on the head of the bed, reaching out to gently place a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. At that point, Lance must have realized he was hogging Shiro, because he pulled back and Pidge zipped in to replace him. It wasn’t a hug, not quite, but she pressed herself into his side and gripped at his shirt. “It was... upsetting, to have to keep setting you off like that.”

Ah. They would have known they were going to trigger his PTSD. Shiro nodded his head in understanding. “Better than letting me run around like that.”

“Yeah,” Keith replied, more subdued than normal. He moved forward for his turn, pressing his forehead to Shiro’s.

It was... amazing. Honestly awe-inspiring, that they still were so eager to be near him. To touch him like this. Right after he’d been taken over and turned against them, they were still here. No hesitation, no distance, same as always.

And Shiro wished it wasn’t so, because he was terrified it would happen again, and this time he would hurt them. But he was too weak to turn them away.

A tremor ran through him, fine but noticeable. “I- You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who-”

“It wasn’t you,” Pidge replied steadily, gripping his natural arm tightly. “You wouldn’t.”

Shiro shook his head. “It was me. Physically. It could happen again.”

“Coran took out those parts,” Hunk protested, scooting closer to Shiro on the bed. “I watched him do it.” Next to him, Pidge nodded. “So it won’t.”

Shaking his head, Shiro fought to stay reasonable, to keep his breathing steady. “No, we can’t be sure-”

“Why can’t we?” Lance demanded, settling on Shiro’s other side. Out of words, Shiro just shook his head. He couldn’t trust it. He couldn’t trust himself. He _refused_ to, when it was everyone else’s lives on the line.

There was a groan, then suddenly Shiro was shoved until he was on his back, and Keith was leaning over him, hand pressed down firmly on his sternum. He tensed, but quickly relaxed back down. They were all so close and nearby, and he knew it was the other paladins, and not anyone else. 

It wouldn’t have been difficult to get back up, but Keith’s scowl stilled Shiro. “We saw, okay? Right away. As soon as you walked in, it was _obvious_. I don’t think you get how not-you it was.” And Shiro stilled, because he really didn’t. It was him, simple as that. “If it was just you, we wouldn’t have noticed that fast. I know you can fool us when you want to. How come you couldn’t do it then?”

That pulled Shiro up short, and his brow furrowed in thought. “I...” 

Lance flopped over easily, resting his head on Shiro’s chest and sprawling his legs out, shoes resting on one of the many humming devices. “And then we just let Pidge taser you until you come back to your senses again. Easy.”

“It was pretty novel to see someone other than Lance get hit by it,” Hunk offered, tone mischievous, and Lance yelped in protest. Then he stuck his tongue out at Hunk, who returned the expression with a goofy one of his own, and the pair spent a solid minute just making increasingly stupid looking faces at each other.

It was clearly mostly for Shiro’s benefit, but it helped. It was so normal and silly that Shiro felt himself unwinding without really meaning to.

“Let us worry about it,” Keith finally said, falling into that rough, gentle tone again. “We’ll keep an eye on you. You focus on the rest.”

All four of them stared at him, determined and ready, and Shiro just couldn’t deny them that. Not when they were making sense, and not when Allura and Coran had backed them up earlier. Shiro was so used to flying on instinct and protecting them from what he could that it was hard to let go and accept that maybe, just this once, this wasn’t something he needed to block them from. Shiro shivered again, because it was _terrifying_ to let them take over, when it could blow up in all their faces so badly. But it was the reasonable thing to do.

Then Shiro nodded, and the relief on everyone’s face was enough to let him know he’d made the right call.

“Are you allowed to get up?” Hunk asked suddenly.

Nodding slowly, Shiro sat back up, dislodging Lance in the process. “I assume so. No one told me otherwise.”

“Back to the kitchen?” Pidge asked knowingly, lips curling up.

Okay, Shiro was officially curious. “Does this have to do with whatever was in those mugs?”

Lance beamed and shook his head. “No way, no spoiling the surprise.”

Brows jumping up, Shiro rolled his shoulders, then stood up. “Alright, let’s see it, then.” As they bustled him out, Shiro shot Keith a quick look, head tilted in question. He got a smirk and a nod in reply. Okay, so it was something he’d definitely like, but he wasn’t sure what it was that had everyone so excited.

A quiet part of him hoped it involved alcohol, but he kept that thought to himself.

Once they were in the kitchen - the actual kitchen, oddly enough, not the dining area - Hunk shooed Shiro onto one of the stools, then moved to the heating equipment. Shiro hesitated to call it a stove, because it wasn’t built like one, but it seemed to fulfil the same basic purpose. Taking a pot off it, he filled up a new mug and passed it to Shiro, then refilled the four that had been left on the counter. Putting it back down, Hunk beamed at them and gestured for him to drink.

Curious, Shiro picked up the mug and took a quick sniff. It smelled sweet, though not like anything in particular that he noticed. Just sugar. Brows rising, he glanced at Keith again, who just smirked again. Then he took a sip.

Then he froze.

Somehow, hundreds of thousands of light years from Earth, Hunk had managed to make _hot chocolate_.

Shiro curled around the mug in automatic reaction, as though someone would try and take it from him. “How did you-?”

Beaming like a sun had taken permanent residence in his cheeks, Hunk shrugged. “One of the plants we got on a supply run a while back reminded me of ground up baking chocolate. Then it was just finding something that was enough like dairy, and then something sweet, and ta-da!”

After a pause to take another reverent sip, Shiro smiled right back, just as happily. “Hunk, you’re a genius.”

While Hunk puffed at the praise, Lance knocked his shoulder against Shiro’s. “Careful there, big guy. You look like you’re about to propose.”

“I’m considering it,” Shiro responded, a little dazed. Hot chocolate had been a quick and simple comfort at the Garrison. When he’d been at the nearby town, he’d had a reputation for picking up either chocolate powder or pre-made hot cocoa mix from the store to stock up. No wonder Keith had been smirking so much.

One hand on his cheek, Hunk blushed. “I’m not sure I’m ready to be a mom,” he quipped, and laughed at Shiro’s eye roll. “Especially not to these three.”

That earned him a chorus of cries from the rest, but Shiro shrugged. “I’ll be the Mom, I don’t care.” Then he eyed them all. “As tired as that joke is.”

“Never,” Lance replied, a hand dramatically poised over his heart. “Father, why do you forsake us so?”

Rolling her eyes, Pidge kicked him under the counter, making Lance jolt and nearly slosh his hot chocolate. “Have you ever met a joke you didn’t run into the ground?”

“No,” Hunk informed them cheerfully, taking a seat with his own mug and making Keith snicker. Which of course Lance couldn’t help but respond to. 

While they were comfortably bickering, Pidge glanced up at Shiro. “Hey. Question.” Shiro paused, brows up. “Is there something that would... help? Not with your arm, Coran did that. But with sleeping.” She tilted the mug on it’s edge, rolling it in a slow, careful circle. “You said it had been a long time since you slept well, so...”

Shiro closed his eyes against the frustration and shame that welled back up. To hit them all with that, in such a manipulative, blunt way, had been disgusting. And it wasn’t something he’d ever wanted them to know. The lead up to Kerberos had been stressful in an amazing way, and sleep just hadn’t been a priority. Then on the flight over he’d was the only pilot, and so he’d trained himself to wake every few hours, just to check to make sure everything was fine and there were no problems. And after... well, after had been it’s own set of problems.

Realizing he’d been silent for too long, Shiro shrugged and managed a smile for Pidge. “I think it’s something I just have to deal with.” When she just stared back, he sighed. “It’s not like what I said. I was trying to distract you guys and keep you from stopping me. It was never as bad as I implied.”

“Bullshit,” Keith muttered into his mug, pausing the argument to give Shiro a bland look.

The blunt reply made Shiro pause, and he scowled back. “It’s not! I’m dealing, not... wasting away in pain. It’s bearable.” He shook his head, both in frustration and renewed disgust with his own words.

Somehow, his words only made the rest of them look sad, and Shiro’s fingers clenched around the mug in frustration. “It was a lie, okay? I choose this. I’d choose this every minute of every day, and I can deal with it. I’m sorry I said that to you. Deeply. Please don’t take it to heart.”

Sharing a glance with the others, Keith frowned. “Shiro. We just want to help.” He paused, then continued slowly, like he wasn’t sure about the words he was saying. “And you keep... You know we’re not the victims here, right? It hurt to watch, but it was _for_ you, not because of you.”

Shiro froze. Slowly, he looked at each of them in turn, then back at Keith, lips pulled down. “That’s- I’m the one who _did_ it. I’m-” He shook his head and pushed the stool back, standing. Energy suddenly filled him, making him tense. “I hurt you, not...”

“It wasn’t you. You wouldn’t. We know that,” Pidge replied gently, frowning right back at him. “Do you?”

No. No, Shiro didn’t.

He stayed standing, frozen in place, unsure of how to react and unwilling to run. Lance stood as well, and shot a quick look at Shiro’s arm. But it wasn’t wary, just understanding, which was strange because _Shiro_ didn’t understand. Stepping over, he rested his hand on Shiro’s arm, expression surprisingly stern and direct. “Would you have done that if it hadn’t been for the control?”

Shiro shook his head. “No. Never.”

“Then it wasn’t you.” Reaching up with his other hand, Lance pulled him into a hug, once again resting Shiro’s forehead against his shoulder. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” he told him, voice low and soothing. “We haven’t said that yet, have we? It must have been terrifying for you. I’m sorry you had to go through that again.”

Somehow, Shiro’s thoughts had been sliding away from that perspective. He’d been afraid for the others, both for what could have happened and what he had already done. But he’d managed to avoid thinking about that awful time between sleeping and being fully awake, where he’d felt it happening, and the times where he’d tried to come fully back and had been pushed back down. And the times when his mind had been pulled in two different unstoppable directions, neither of them places he wanted to go.

Shiro had managed to avoid thinking about how he’d been violated again. Until he was forced to.

At some point, he’d started to shake, not from tears but from the sheer, sickening emotions swirling through him. It wasn’t quite a panic attack, but it wasn’t far from one either, and Shiro was only vaguely aware of being pressed back onto the stool and the hands touching him, gentle and comforting. He clung to Lance’s jacket and held on like it would save him from drowning.

Shiro didn’t cry. It was a close thing, but he managed to avoid that, at least. But when he pulled back, his eyes stung dangerously, and his breathing sounded just a bit wet.

Wordlessly, Hunk refiled the mug and handed it to him again. Shiro held on, just as comforted by the gentle heat in his hands as by the drink itself.

The others gave him a minute to compose himself, but didn’t move away, all easily within arms reach. Finally, Shiro was together enough to mutter an apology, because this was the second time that day (within two days? He wasn’t sure) that he’d been distinctly un-leader-ish.

“If you’re actually sorry, I’m going to kick you,” Keith told him, voice flat.

Shiro couldn’t help cracking a small smile at that. “Guess I’m not, then.”

Snorting quietly, Pidge eyed him. “You better not be.” She paused, then put down her own mug, meeting his eyes directly. “Look, you already said you trust us to take care of it if the arm thing happens again, right?”

Brows jumping up, Shiro nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Well, then by definition you’re trusting us to know when something is or isn’t you,” Pidge replied. “Otherwise, we won’t know when to step in.”

Shiro frowned, seeing the logic in that, even if he didn’t really want to. Something bone deep said that it was all him and he should be doing something about it, but he had already acknowledged that he wasn’t being exactly rational at the moment. So he finally nodded. “You’re right. I’m trusting you. I do trust you. All of you.”

That got him a round of straightened backs and puffed out chest, and Shiro gave a small smile back. It was a marvel, how easily they responded to compliments from him.

Finally, Hunk clamored to his feet. “Alright, today sucked. I think we earned a movie. We earned like, ten movies.”

“I don’t know about ten,” Pidge replied thoughtfully. “First of all, 15 hours of movie is too much movie at once. Secondly, I’m not sure we reached that threshold. First we need to quantify how much suck equals one movie, then move up from there.”

Keith rolled his eyes, and Shiro thought he was going to make a dry comment about the inherent silliness of the system. But then he eyed Pidge. “You’re assuming it’s a linear progression. It could be exponential. In which case, we need to determine what direction the s-curve is going.”

“No, no math. I refuse to math.” Lance covered his ears and shook his head. “We’re skipping classes forever and I don’t have to math anymore. Don’t bring that into this. Let me live my life.”

Pouting, Hunk knocked his shoulder into Lance’s. “But, dude, math is fun.”

“What are you?” Lance demanded, giving him a wounded look. “How can you say that? Shouldn’t it set your mouth on fire?”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “No one is doing math, Lance.” Then he eyed him. “But math is definitely fun. Physics is math.”

Leaning back against the counter, Lance stared up at the ceiling. “I’m surrounded by nerds.”

“Nerds who want to watch a movie, already,” Keith replied. “And I never said _I_ like math.”

Lance looked torn between wanting to argue with Keith and wanting an ally against the horrors of math. To forestall whichever way he went - either decision would lead to more arguing - Shiro picked his mug back up and stood. “You know, I still haven’t seen the full list of what movies you have.”

That made Pidge pause. “Really? Huh. C’mon, I’ll show you.” She started for the door, then flashed him a smirk. “Lots of Disney.”

“Shocking,” Shiro drawled back, his own lips curled up fondly. “Do you have Hercules? At this point I might as well actually watch it.”

Following behind, Hunk tilted his head. “Disney movies? Those are ancient. Why do you need to watch those?”

Shiro shrugged. “If I’m going to have the songs stuck in my head, I might as well have seen the movie.”

That lead to questions about why Shiro knew the songs and not the movies, and what the songs were, most of which Shiro dodged just for the fun of it, and because it made Pidge laugh. Eventually they settled onto the same couch, same as usual.

And same as usual, there was something comforting about having them all at hand and doing something as simple and peaceful as watching a movie. This time, though, it was missing a tension Shiro was used to. The haunting feeling that he should be doing something, being productive rather than sitting here and possibly hurting someone later.

It was nice.

Leaning back contentedly, Shiro let the movie wash over him, humming along with the parts he knew but otherwise not paying as much attention as he should have. Instead he just enjoyed the company.

At some point, Shiro started to slip off, and eventually fell into a doze. He was never fully out, not really, and he could still hear the movie and the conversation around him. So he was aware when they realized he wasn’t really awake anymore, and when a blanket was draped over him. He expected the others to start to leave, then, but instead they continued to talk, low murmurs that washed over him comfortably, pressed against his sides and always, always nearby.

Part of him recognized that he should get up. If he fell asleep, Shiro might have a nightmare and wake up violently. 

But he trusted them. Shiro had told them that, and it was true. He trusted them.

And with that in mind, Shiro finally drifted off into a deep, comfortable sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this time he actually gets to rest. 
> 
> As an explanation: Shiro’s inability to accept that his actions weren’t his own stems from what we learned in the final chapter of Your Grace Is Wasted, where controlled kills became indistinguishable from voluntary kills. Lance, at least, has figured this out. The boy is occasionally perceptive like that. Shiro isn’t consciously aware of this, since he still doesn’t remember most of that, but it’s still in his brain (the flashbacks are proof enough of this). So it affects his behavior, whether he understands it or not.
> 
> There’s also a lot of interesting psychology about how we experience and identify emotions and actions. You know how it’s said that if you smile you feel happier? That kind of thing. The brain doesn’t seem to have a disconnect between ‘stuff I do’ and ‘stuff I think/believe/feel’, which makes sense. There’s not a whole lot of reasons for the brain to need to know the difference between ‘a thing I physically did’ and ‘a thing I physically did that I had no control over’ other than stress levels. So that’s a big part of why I write Shiro as having trouble separating out what was forced on him and what was his own actions.
> 
> Originally this was going to be a lot angstier, with Shiro asking Pidge to kill him, but Allura and Coran stepped in to be the Responsible Adults in the situation. Of course, now they have to deal with the knowledge that the black paladin _may_ be at least a little suicidal. Shiro would argue that he’s not, but Allura and Coran will certainly be keeping a closer eye on his mental health after this. With good reason.
> 
> As always, you can follow me at Chaoticreactions.tumblr.com, and send me an ask/message there or leave a comment here if you have a suggestion for future Five Things. I can’t promise I will fulfill every suggestion, but I always look into them.
> 
> So, for the future! I have a few more five things planned that will begin posting on Friday instead of Tuesdays. Next Five Things will be ‘Five Times someone held Shiro’s hand’. After that? Who knows! See you next week, same Voltron time, same Voltron channel!


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